


Sweet Petals

by LadyLoquacity



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Come At Once, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3422870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLoquacity/pseuds/LadyLoquacity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt for the "come at once" lj challenge was "that just sort of happened".</p><p>and I think there should be more masturbation fic, so here is my contribution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Petals

I'm used to Sherlock taking over the flat with his experiments, but only very rarely do they make the place look nicer. The plant pot on the coffee table was brand new, as were the brightly coloured blooms sprouting from the soil. I had no plans for the rest of the day, and was home alone, so figured I'd do a bit of reading whilst lying down on the sofa. 

I sank down into the worn leather cushions and leaned forward to inspect the flowers a bit closer. Some of the petals seemed almost iridescent; they kept my attention for far longer than I expected, and their sweet fragrance lingered with me for some time. I settled into a comfortable position but found it strangely difficult to keep my concentration on the book; it fell from my hands to the floor, and I fell asleep quickly. 

It had only been a short nap, but I felt fantastically rested afterwards. Part of me wondered if the scent of the flowers had inspired it, so I selected another of the bunch and sniffed at it again. The aroma was similar, but up close it was more intense, with an underlying spice to it. I sat on the edge of the sofa cushion and smelled each of the flowers in turn, and was surprised to find that by the end of it, I'd begun to rock slightly against the hand I'd rested against my crotch. I was even more surprised to realise that I wasn't embarrassed, and nor was I worried that Sherlock could walk in at any moment. A fleet of panic flashed across my mind - could this be some mood altering experiment? - but at this point I was too turned on to even care. 

Torn between wanting to unzip my jeans, and carrying on savouring the addictive smell of the flowers, I compromised and picked a bloom from the soil, holding it under my nose as I frantically unzipped my jeans and pulled out my already hard cock. I shivered as my hand closed around the heat of it, but knew it was too much friction to wank like this, and so I spat a few times into my palm, and resumed. I took a long sniff of the flower with each long, slow pull at my cock, the combined sensations making me incredibly sensitive. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, not wanting to finish too quickly, even though in my right mind, I would rather not be thrusting into my own fist in the middle of my living room, with a sodding flower under my nose. 

And yet, I wanted the experience to last, until I had crushed the delicate stem between my fingers, my head tipped back against the sofa, gasping as my orgasm shivered through me. I came more than usual, my shirt front was spotted and splattered with the evidence. 

It was only belatedly that I realised that I had heard the front door click shut, and the steady pace of feet climbing the stairs. 

Sherlock opened the door, looked at my face, then the crushed flower, then my soiled shirt. 

He raised his eyebrow as I dropped the flower I'd picked on to the wooden table. I felt supremely relaxed, sprawled there as I was, half exposed and growing rapidly sticky. 

"That just sort of... happened," I explained.


End file.
